


Six o'clock

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Domestic, F/F, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:04:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Katherine often came home later than Sarah did, or else at truly odd times of the day, depending on what stories she was following.  Sometimes she was alight with passion and excitement, ready to change the world, and other times she moved as if the weight of that world was upon her narrow shoulders.  Today she came home with teary red eyes, and a runny nose.  Seeing this, Sarah sprang up to greet her at once, wondering just who she would need to take vengeance on, and how swiftly she could do it."It's not as bad as it looks," Katherine assured her with a laugh.  "It's only..." Katherine paused in her speech to sneeze with alarming intensity.  "You see," she went on.  "I found a..."Another sneeze, and suddenly the very tiniest of kittens came tumbling out of Katherine's jacket.





	Six o'clock

Six o'clock in the evening was a rather capricious sort of hour, being bright and full of possibilities in the summer, and as dark as midnight once the winter came. Seeing as it was December 30th, winter was in full swing, with freezing rain, and wind that whipped and whirled through the hair that Sarah had done up so neatly only that morning. She walked with quick steps, stopping abruptly here and there to let a carriage clamor past, or to adjust her hold on her work basket, which she carried close against her hip. Once she crossed paths with a young, dark-haired newsboy, who paused in his own shivery trudge to tip his hat at her. He wasn't one of the ones that Sarah knew, but that didn't mean that she wasn't known to him, and she gave him the nicest smile that she could, given that she was half frozen. From there it was a matter of weaving through a few more alleyways before Sarah could find her tenement building, then swinging open the doorway, and keeping her footing up eight flights of creaky, pitch-black stairs. 

Inside the apartment that Sarah shared with Katherine, everything was as warm and cozy as it was small. Sarah let herself in, put down her basket with a decided clunk, and set about lighting the wood stove and the lamps. Soon there was a yellow glow between the shadows, illuminating the room just enough so that Sarah could change into her nightgown, and hang up her wet clothes. Having done this, she knelt down next to the wood stove, and set about trying to warm her hands.

Katherine often came home later than Sarah did, or else at truly odd times of the day, depending on what stories she was following. Sometimes she was alight with passion and excitement, ready to change the world, and other times she moved as if the weight of that world was upon her narrow shoulders. Today she came home with teary red eyes, and a runny nose. Seeing this, Sarah sprang up to greet her at once, wondering just who she would need to take vengeance on, and how swiftly she could do it. 

"It's not as bad as it looks," Katherine assured her with a laugh. "It's only..." Katherine paused in her speech to sneeze with alarming intensity. "You see," she went on. "I found a..." Another sneeze, and suddenly the very tiniest of kittens came tumbling out of Katherine's jacket. Sarah barely had time to see what color it was, before it went darting behind the curtain. Katherine rushed after it. "It's a thousand times needier and more helpless than it looks at this very moment, I promise," Katherine said, just as the curtain came tumbling down. 

\-------

The story came out little by little, as Katherine and Sarah raced around the apartment, trying to stop the destructive kitten. When Katherine had first met it, it had been racing out of the butcher's shop, clutching a fish head in its mouth, while the butcher's boy chased after it in hot pursuit. Scooping it up had been an act of reflex, and so had answering "yes" when the boy demanded to know whether or not it was her cat. 

"Then ya better keep yer critter there locked up, 'fore I make 'im regret his theivin' ways," Katherine said, in her best imitation of the angry lad, from whom the kitten had only narrowly escaped. Her voice came out somewhat muffled, as she searched under the bed to see where the kitten had gone. 

"That's very admirable," Sarah said mildly. She was investigating the cupboards.

"If by admirable you mean foolish..." 

"You're allergic, aren't you?" 

Katherine groaned, "More than I ever dreamed I would be. Do you have any idea how many flower shows I've had to sit through?" 

"More than a writer of your caliber ought to have." 

"More than anybody but the world's greatest flower enthusiast ought to have. And I'll tell you, Sarah, that kitten is like half a dozen flower shows' worth of allergies rolled into one." 

"No wonder it likes you so much. Cats are like that." 

Just as Sarah was speaking, a small paw came out from under the couch to tug and her shoe lace. Sarah crossed her arms, with a significant look at the place where the paw had been. Then she went over to the hat rack, pulled down her scarf, and dragged it across the floor. Both women watched and waited, to see what would happen. Sure enough, the paw returned and returned again with each pass of the scarf, until a fuzzy orange body came tumbling out after it. 

"Now that's more like it," Katherine exclaimed, as the kitten lost no time in tangling itself up in Sarah's scarf.

\------

In the months that they had been living together, Katherine and Sarah had developed a sort of evening routine. Sarah would cook, and Katherine would hover in the kitchen, threatening to help. Katherine would do the dishes, and Sarah would start on some of the piecework that she always brought home. Katherine would type and type and type and type well into the night more often than not, or else pace and rant as she tried to bully her brain and hands into writing the kind of story that could alter the fabric of society. Sarah would accept that, because if she didn't love ink stained fingers, genius, and the constant click and clack of typewriter keys, then she would have chosen a very different sort of life for herself. Eventually Katherine would kiss Sarah goodnight if she was still awake, and indeed, even if she wasn't, for Sarah had often found herself half in a dream, and yet aware of the brush of lips against her cheek or eyelids, always at the most improbable times of the morning. 

The kitten, it seemed, was hellbent on destroying that routine. For one thing, it tried to eat Sarah's thread. For another, it crawled over Katherine's typewriter, and behaved as though the greatest wish in its tiny heart was to sprawl itself all over the keys forever and ever, but especially at those particular moments when Katherine most needed to use it. It knocked over a vase, climbed the bookshelf, and fought an epic battle against Sarah's hairbrush, after apparently deciding that it was a new kind of mouse. 

"It's very cute," Sarah observed, watching thoughtfully as the kitten sharpened its paws on the sofa. "Now how are we going to get rid of it?" 

Katherine sneezed, and then sneezed again. "Wasn't your mother saying that she missed having a baby in the house?" 

"If Les would just let her fuss over him a little, it would be alright," Sarah mused. She picked up the kitten. "But Les won't do that, now will he?" she said, speaking directly to the kitten. "What do you think? Can you make yourself pleasant for mama?" 

Katherine laughed. "Well, he'd need to put in more effort that he has with us, that much is for sure. What about Jack? He likes anything small and helpless." 

"He told me once that he thinks cats are untrustworthy." 

"Yes, but just look at that little face. I'd trust it with my life if I didn't know better." 

"If there's one thing that Jack is good at, it's not knowing better." 

"I could give the kitten to Mr. Denton at the office," Katherine suggested. "He thinks we're great friends, and I think he has a terrible habit of pouncing on stories that by all rights should be mine. Maybe this little beast would slow him down." 

"What about Crutchie?" Sarah asked. "He makes enough trouble of his own. He and the kitten are kindred spirits, more or less." 

"He'd love it," Katherine agreed. "The question is, do we give it to him tonight or tomorrow?" 

Sarah glanced up at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late," she said. "But I'm not opposed to playing the midnight cat fairy on a stormy night." She leapt up to get dressed. 

"When you put it that way..." Katherine got up as well, and after a brief search for her gloves, and a basket to put the kitten in, the pair were out the door.


End file.
